


Attica

by fructose



Series: a thread from one's own innards [4]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Gang AU, Jail AU, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Prison, Reunion Sex, Smut, Violence, almost pwp but not quite, shameless Heathens-inspired au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 15:08:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7273033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fructose/pseuds/fructose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Look at me,” Tyler said, his hand squeezing. Josh’s hips ground upwards and he groaned, shaking his head. “Look at me, Josh.”</p><p>“I can’t,” he said, voice wrecked already. “I can’t keep quiet if I look.”</p><p>Tyler pressed his cheek against Josh’s cock, pulled his lips around and kissed the tight skin of his length. “Look at me, Josh,” he said again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

In the end they couldn’t avoid being caught, Tyler was too sloppy and Josh was too in love to try and control him. The police raided their flat one night in July, while they fucked in the hot air with their windows open all the way. Tyler had lunged, naked and furious, at the first cop he could get to and bit down into the side of his neck as a second cop shot him in the back of the leg. Tyler came away with a chunk of skin between his teeth and blood across his face, wrapping his shaking fist around the hot hole in his leg as more cops crowded into the room with their weapons drawn.

Josh had knelt in the middle of the bed with his hands behind his back, desperate and humiliated, already bound by Tyler’s hard hands and a length of blue nylon rope. The cops had set upon him all the same, dragging him to the floor and beating him til all he could do was focus on one breath in and one breath out, his eyes on Tyler’s body curled on the wooden floor.

There was talk about sending them to different prisons; Tyler would be shipped off to Atlanta, while Josh would go to Rikers Island and the cold. Josh remembered his lawyer telling him this information under his breath, the sweat under his hair betraying his business-like exterior. Josh had just shook his head and told him there would be trouble if they tried to take Tyler away from him. The lawyer had nodded slowly and Josh knew he understood, _We’re together or you’re dead_.

In the end they were both sent to Attica Correctional Facility, where they settled in for the long night with two thousand fellow inmates and an inbuilt tear gas system.

In their first week Tyler started a fight in B Mess and blinded a man from Tucson, a dealer with tattoos scrawled up his neck. Josh watched for a moment, memorising the stretch of Tyler’s thighs across the man’s chest, the grit of his teeth as he dug his fingers into the soft parts of the man’s face.

There was a commotion afterwards, messy and loud, even in the cavernous arch of the mess hall. Josh broke a man’s arm and dislocated another’s jaw with his bare hands, his fingers wrapped around a fistful of dimes that had been snuck in by one of his men.

In solitary he thought about the blood on Tyler’s hands as he fucked up into his own fist, coming to the thought of Tyler’s dark eyes, his gleeful fury.

 

They didn’t see each other for seventeen weeks after that, kept apart for the safety of the inmates, the screws, themselves.

Josh got out of solitary after three weeks and spent the next three months carefully refining the connections he had gained before he had even been incarcerated. There were people inside whom he had helped on the outside, men who were loyal to him and to Tyler, men who had heard about the revenge killing of the gang in Dayton, friends of friends of friends. Josh started smoking just to have something to talk to them about, something to trade that was gentle and non-violent. He kept his head down, waiting for Tyler, waiting for his boy.

The new year came and went, and it was late March when Josh looked up from his biscuits and gravy to see Tyler sauntering through B Mess, his eyes dark and focussed on Josh, a smile playing somewhere in the twitch of his lips.

Josh felt winded, the shock of seeing Tyler clean and whole and so very real just across the room taking his breath away. This was not the pale image he had held in his mind for over four months, not the echoes of Tyler’s words, the imagined lilt of his voice; this was his flesh, his blood, his own beating heart. He wanted to stand and tackle Tyler to the floor, to push his hands up under the standard issue shirt and dig his fingers into Tyler’s skin, feel the give of his living flesh.

Josh watched the inmates watch Tyler, furtive and unsure, and took a breath. Josh could feel the whispers like fingers on his skin, murmurs that sounded like _Columbus_ , like _murder_ , like _insane_. He dragged his eyes up Tyler’s body as he approached, imagining what colour his skin might be now, how pale or how gold, how his taut throat would feel under his hands, whether his lips would taste like copper. His dick twitched in his pants and Tyler came to a stop beside him, standing over him like a monolith.

“You look like you missed me,” Tyler said softly, barely audible over the renewed chatter of the mess.

Josh nodded, heart hammering. “Yeah,” he said. “I missed you.”

Tyler smiled. “I got something for you.”

Josh breathed slow but couldn’t stop his eyes from flicking down, towards Tyler’s crotch. “Yeah?”

Tyler nodded then jerked his head away, indicating the door that led to C Block. Josh stood without a word and followed Tyler out of the mess, sparing a glance for the guards who resolutely looked the other way.

 

Tyler led him along the tunnel from C Block to Times Square, a barred intersection of dark corridors that led from one block to another. A thick-necked guard unlocked the gate to D Block with a nod in Tyler’s direction when they reached the end of the tunnel; Tyler said nothing but Josh could feel an excited energy vibrating through him, a pulse that meant pain or violence. It was the barely contained shudder of Tyler’s bloodlust.

Tyler led him to the chapel, which was empty and echoing when Tyler pushed open the door and walked inside.

“Someone’ll come in,” Josh said, following Tyler in and letting the door swing closed behind them.

Tyler shook his head. “No one’s coming in.”

Josh nodded, watching as Tyler walked between the pews to the altar, winter sunlight streaming in through the barred windows ahead of him. Josh watched as Tyler turned, his profile in silhouette, the dark space of him against the light. He knelt down by the altar, pulling at one of the wooden panels until it started to lift away, creaking in the silence of the chapel.

“Come up here, Josh,” Tyler said as he shifted the panel out of the way, leaning it carefully up against the solid side of the altar. “Come see.”

Josh made his way up the aisle towards Tyler, trying to ignore the gentle throb of his cock at the thought of Tyler on his knees in front of the chapel altar, at the sunlight in his dark hair.

“What've you got?” Josh said, stepping up beside Tyler and crouching to look into the cavity he had revealed inside the altar. Tyler grinned as Josh’s eyes narrowed. “Where’d you get all these?” Josh said, a nervous huff of laughter escaping him.

“Friends,” Tyler said. “Friends of friends.”

Josh looked from the stockpile of semi-automatic weapons to Tyler’s face, cataloguing the cuts, the scars, the bruises, those that were not there before, those that had been put there by hands that were not his own.

“What are you gonna do?” Josh said, his voice almost a whisper, acutely aware of Tyler’s hands, his thighs, his skin so so close.

“I’m gonna start a riot with you,” Tyler said with a grin. “You and me, we're gonna tear this place apart.”


	2. Chapter 2

Tyler had spent the weeks away from Josh networking in the same way Josh had, but instead of cigarettes he had started moving cocaine, heroin, and marijuana. Bank accounts had been organised, lines of communication secured, even Tyler and Josh’s old launderers were working to clean the money on the outside to return to the screws Tyler was bribing on the inside. In four months Tyler had built an underground empire that spread all the way back to Ohio. Josh wondered what he could do in a year.

When Tyler knew it was safe he had had the guns smuggled in on the back of a truck that brought in fat for the fryers; fifty-two semi-automatic rifles laid carefully in boxes labelled ‘Supreme Oil Company’. Josh hadn’t asked what the plan was; he assumed that somewhere in the back of Tyler’s mind was the notion of escape, of a hurried freedom, but he also knew full well that Tyler only ever planned for carnage and anything else was a bonus.

The smell of the guns stayed with Josh all the way back to C Block, where Tyler led him up to his cell, last on the left and two floors up. They didn’t fuck that day, though Josh felt desperate whenever Tyler touched him, his fingers against his arm and near the small of his back. Josh returned to Tyler’s cell the next day and the day after that, until Tyler had finally pushed him onto the thin bunk against the grey wall and pressed his shaking fingers into Josh’s pants.

“God damn, Josh, damn, you look so good,” Tyler said, breathless. “You’re so fucking pretty, Josh, you’re, fuck-”

Josh’s head was thrown back against the thin pillow on Tyler’s bunk, his eyes screwed shut and his mouth open as Tyler twisted his hand around the base of Josh’s cock.

“I’m gonna suck you off, Josh,” Tyler said as he leant over him, breathing low. “Josh.”

Josh nodded, an awkward tilt of his chin. He was dimly aware of the noise outside the cell, but knew that no one would come near the place when they were in there together. They had been interrupted the day before and Tyler had nearly choked the guy half to death before pushing him towards a screw and telling him to keep people _the fuck away_ when he was in his cell with someone.

“Look at me,” Tyler said, his hand squeezing. Josh’s hips ground upwards and he groaned, shaking his head. “Look at me, Josh.”

“I can’t,” he said, voice wrecked already. “I can’t keep quiet if I look.”

Tyler pressed his cheek against Josh’s cock, pulled his lips around and kissed the tight skin of his length. “Look at me, Josh,” he said again.

Josh opened his eyes, letting them flick down as Tyler licked a wet stripe along the underside of Josh’s cock, his eyes dark under his lashes.

“Fuck,” Josh shuddered, full bodied, and clamped his eyes shut. “I can’t, Tyler, I can’t.”

Tyler snorted out a quiet laugh and sucked Josh into his mouth, a gentle up and down that was as agonising as it was arousing. It was the first time they had really been together since they had been separated, aside from rutting against one another in the chapel after Tyler had shown him the guns two days before, coming too quick and too messy inside their prison uniforms, desperate for one another. Tyler had murmured about love afterwards, kissing Josh’s cheeks, his chin, mouth sliding sloppily across his lips. Josh had nodded, _of course he loved him,_ _of course_.

Josh tried to focus on Tyler’s mouth around his cock, on the wet heat of his tongue pressing hard up against him. There was a crash from outside, a yell and then a rumble of laughter, a shout from a guard.

“Fuck, Tyler, you gotta stop,” Josh grunted, opening his eyes and shifting back. “I can’t, man, I can’t here.”

Tyler rolled his eyes but shifted back all the same, looking hungrily down at Josh’s wet cock as he sat up. “We gotta do something, Josh, I’ve been going crazy for four months,” Tyler learnt forwards, his face a mask of wanting. “Jesus, I had to-” He cut himself off and Josh raised his eyebrows, watching the rare red of a blush creeping up Tyler’s neck and across the apples of his cheeks.

“You had to what?”

Tyler huffed out a laugh. “Jerk off, obviously,” he said too quickly.

Josh felt a sudden rush of something indescribable pound through him, something akin to rage, but deeper, more painful. “What did you have to do?”

Though they were still cramped on the creaking bunk Tyler shifted, infinitesimally, away from Josh. “Nothing.”

Josh’s mouth opened and then closed. He leant forwards as Tyler shifted back and roughly fisted a hand in the front of Tyler’s shirt, he could feel Tyler’s heart beating under his clenched fist as he pushed him back against the wall.

“Did you fuck someone in here?”Josh said slowly, his eyes narrowing, the pounding of his jealousy like tinnitus in his ears. “Who was it?” Tyler was silent so Josh shook him. “Who the fuck was it?”

“No one,” Tyler said finally, his eyes cast down. “I’m sorry, Josh, I-”

Josh yanked Tyler forward by his shirt and pushed him back against the wall, the base of his skull clunking against the hard plaster. Josh almost apologised, but he could see the darkness in Tyler’s eyes as sure as he could feel the pounding of his heart, so instead he said, “You enjoy it?”

“No, Josh-”

“Where did you do it? Here? In this fucking bunk?”

Tyler let his head tip back against the wall as Josh shuffled closer, his cock cold and naked between his legs. “No,” Tyler said, swallowing. “It was in the showers.”

Josh stared at him, his jaw clenched hard. He watched the bob of Tyler’s Adam’s apple, the flick of his tongue between his lips. He tried to imagine Tyler’s hands on a body that was not his own but found he couldn’t fathom it. As far as Josh was aware he was the only person Tyler had ever been with; his emotional and mental idiosyncrasies making it difficult for him to form relationships, his violence making sex outright dangerous. Josh thought about the first time they had fucked; young, green, together in an alley after a fight where Tyler had fractured a boy’s eye socket for selling him a gram of weed that had been mixed with oregano. Tyler had told Josh he loved him that same night, shaking like the world was falling apart around him, coming hard against the brick wall of the alley as Josh moved inside him.

_I’ll only ever love you._

“Did you think about me?” Josh said at last.

Tyler almost looked relieved, his eyes rolling up. “Yeah, of course, Josh, all I think about is you-”

Josh leant against him and pressed his face into Tyler’s shoulder, almost gentle, as he said, “You wanna pretend I’m some other guy?”

“Josh-”

“You wanna pretend I’m someone else? So I can fuck you into your grimy little bunk like one of the screws?” Josh let his hand fall between Tyler’s legs and realised he was hard, throbbing against Josh’s palm. It was the pain, Josh knew, and the fear. There was a chance that Tyler hadn’t even fucked anyone, but he would say it just to bring the fight out of Josh, to get the violence out of him. Josh knew Tyler loved the dark parts of him as much as the light; he wanted to feel Josh’s fists as much as he wanted to feel Josh’s fingertips.

“You wanna get fucked in here, Tyler? You wanna get ruined in prison?”

Tyler whined, leaning back and letting out a ragged gasp as Josh palmed his cock. “Yeah, god, Josh, please.”

“You want that, huh? You want it?”

Tyler nodded and when he gasped for a breath it edged into a sob. “ _Josh_.”

Josh kissed him, hard enough to hurt, but Tyler opened his mouth with a sigh all the same, his tongue pressing forward as he shuddered against Josh.

“Fuck, I missed you,” Tyler said against his lips, reaching out for Josh with shaking hands. “I missed you so fucking much.”

Josh nodded and pulled Tyler forward to turn him around, pushing him back down against the bunk, his knees against the concrete floor. Tyler moved where Josh shifted him, pliant and wanting, his hands fumbling as he unzipped his prison-issue pants, pulling them down over the surprisingly pale curve of his ass.

Josh watched Tyler undress as he sucked two fingers into his own mouth, wetting them sparingly before kneeling down behind Tyler and pressing them between the cheeks of Tyler’s ass. He watched the shaking curve of Tyler’s back under his shirt as he worked him open, his ass tight and good around his fingers.

When Josh finally pushed into Tyler they stilled against one another for a moment, until Josh leant forwards and growled in Tyler’s ear, “I’m gonna fuck you, Tyler, and I’m gonna make sure they hear. I want them to know you’re mine, you understand?” Tyler had shuddered and clenched around Josh’s cock, almost coming against the threadbare sheet on the bunk before Josh had even touched him.

“You understand, Tyler?” Josh said as he started to move, his cock slipping hard and heavy out of Tyler’s ass and back in. “You’re mine.”

Tyler nodded, his dark hair a mess at his crown, his voice frayed and lost. “Yes, yeah.”

“What?” Josh hissed as he pushed back in, bottoming out with a barely restrained groan.

“I’m yours, I’m yours, Josh,” Tyler gasped as he fisted his hands into the bed sheet and pushed back against Josh, the rough waistband of his trousers scraping against the front of Josh’s thighs.

The ache of his remembered loneliness, the pain of waiting, meant that Josh came too soon, spurred on my Tyler’s desperate pleas, by the shuddering mess of his body underneath him. When Josh pulled out Tyler clenched hard around him, gasping, come dripping pearly white down towards his balls. Josh stood above him, his chest heaving, watching as Tyler huffed out a ragged breath and rutted helplessly against the edge of the bunk.

Josh stared down at Tyler for a long moment, half wanting to leave him hard and wanting on the floor of his cell as punishment, a reminder that he was Josh’s or no one’s at all. Instead Josh leant down over Tyler and pressed two fingers back inside him, his softening cock twitching at the thin noise Tyler made, the arch of his back. Josh reached around with his free hand for Tyler’s cock and started jerking him too slow to let him come.

Tyler started pleading, nonsense words stuttered out as he tried to press back against Josh’s fingers and forward into his fist. Josh watched Tyler’s muscles shifting under the skin of his thighs, his ass, the slice of tanned back revealed where his shirt had ridden up. There were new scars there, pressed red and raw into his arms, on his back, across his cheeks. Josh catalogued every one, promising himself that he would learn who had given them to Tyler, vowing to start new whispers among the inmates, to carry out a revenge that had them talking behind their hands whenever they saw him.

“You missed me?” Josh said redundantly.

Tyler sobbed, his back arching slow and filthy. “Yes,” he said, ruined. “Yes.”

Josh thought of choking him, hurting him the way Tyler asked for sometimes, but Josh missed Tyler coming under him, so he jerked him faster and revelled in the feeling of Tyler clenching around his fingers.

“Josh,” Tyler said his name in a whine as he came, desperate and high, impossible not to hear outside the cell, impossible to misinterpret.

Afterwards Tyler was silent, penitent. He stayed bent over the bunk with his knees against the floor, arms limp at his sides as his breathing slowed. Josh stared for a moment, still furious, then remembered that he loved Tyler more than anything, that he treasured his life more than his own.

He reached out and hauled Tyler up, turning him around so that they were chest to chest. Tyler was smiling, a lazy creeping grin that he pressed into Josh’s shoulder with a huff of laughter.

“You didn’t fuck anyone in here,” Josh said quietly, his arms tight around Tyler.

Tyler shook his head against Josh’s collarbone, tipping his head up to kiss Josh’s neck and under his chin. “I didn’t fuck anyone in here,” he replied before saying unexpectedly, “I miss our apartment. I miss our bed.”

Josh tipped his head into a nod and held Tyler tighter as he thought about the guns hidden inside the chapel altar. “We can go back,” he said. “We’ll go back before the end.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is literally the most smutty thing i have ever written so.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are good and kind!


End file.
